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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25699597">Save Me</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheOriginalLovelace/pseuds/TheOriginalLovelace'>TheOriginalLovelace</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Descendants (Disney Movies)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Magical Realism, Alternate Universe - Medieval, F/F, First Meetings, Gen, Knights - Freeform, Magic, Pre-Relationship</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 08:15:16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,533</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25699597</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheOriginalLovelace/pseuds/TheOriginalLovelace</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Crown Princess Evelyn Grimhilde Hardt, who had spent more of her life locked away in her tower prison than within her own kingdom, looked upon her would-be savior with what could only be described as trepidation.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Evie/Mal (Disney)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>40</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Save Me</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Crown Princess Evelyn Grimhilde Hardt, who had spent more of her life locked away in her tower prison than within her own kingdom, looked upon her would-be savior with what could only be described as trepidation. She knew what favor knights expected upon rescuing a 'maiden fair' and she dreaded the thought of being trapped in wedlock with any man - no matter the strength and skill that had brought him to the lonely place she called home - more even than the ire of her fiery warden.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He scanned her room silently, body visibly tense beneath his armor, as if searching for another trap or test. He needn't have bothered; she was 'the prize after the punishment', or so her mother had once described her predicament. The thought, to say nothing of the memory, nearly made her retch.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Still, though she had little choice in the man who was to be both her saving grace and her future husband, she couldn't help but look at him. It <em>had</em> been a terribly long time since she'd seen another living soul - save her scaled captor, of course - and she found herself to be hungry for the sight.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His skin was lily white where it peeked out from between layers of well-loved black leather and dull mail, though whether that was from lack of sun or a natural pallor, Evelyn couldn't begin to guess. She wondered, idly, at the color of his hair, of his eyes, then wondered why she bothered <em>wondering</em> at all when these answers  - and more - were but a single question away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Might I look upon the face of my rescuer?" she asked, proud of the way her voice - soft but even - made it seem as if she had not so much as a single care in the world. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He seemed suddenly nervous, hesitant, fingers drumming restlessly on the hilt of his sword, and made no move to answer or honor her request. He was a slight thing, she noted then, small of build and thin as a sapling, but there was strength there, too, in the lines of his slim frame and the set of his narrow shoulders.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He grunted - the sound higher in pitch than she'd have thought to attribute to a knight, no matter his size - and rolled said shoulders, seeming to have made some kind of decision before he sheathed his sword at last and reached up with both hands to remove his helmet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The metal fell away to reveal the face of what had to be the single most beautiful man Evelyn had ever seen. Not that she'd seen many men, per se, but still. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>For whatever little it was worth, she'd been right about his skin; it was far fairer than her own had ever been and surprisingly bare, as if he'd yet to feel the bite of a razor. He must be young, she thought, perhaps younger than even she herself was, and Evelyn wasn't sure whether that thought was more, or less, comforting than the alternative. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She quickly decided on 'more', if only for her own peace of mind.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But it wasn't the lightness of his skin or the, admittedly, pleasing contrast of his pitch-dark hair that made the sight of his uncovered face so arresting. Neither was it the uncommon softness of his features or even the bow-shape of his mouth. Rather, it was the sharp green of his eyes - like the Dread forest surrounding her tower or the well-tended gardens of the home she'd long thought forgotten - that drew her in and left her tongue feeling oddly heavy in her mouth. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I hope her highness isn't overly disappointed."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She blinked and looked away, a fierce blush settling on her cheeks. His voice was soft, far softer than she'd anticipated, even with his apparent youth. Truly, he must be more boy than man for his voice to remain so high in pitch. No more than, oh, four and ten winters, if she were to hazard a guess.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The realization that a mere boy had succeeded where so many men had failed made her chuckle. Perhaps there would be fire enough in him to warm her through the long years to come. One could only hope.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Something funny?" The change in his voice, subtle though it was - and likened in her mind to velvet stretched over steel - drew their eyes together once more and she could all but <em>feel</em> the mounting tension in his frame as she watched the flecks of gold in his irises glimmer in a way that felt vaguely dangerous. How strange; she hadn't even noticed them before.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Not you," she said quickly, realizing almost too late that he'd thought her laughter to be at his expense. "The situation. I've seen countless men the size of mountains fall to the dragon's flame and yet here you stand, unharmed. It's most impressive, sir," she added, if only to assuage any hurt she might have done his ego. After all, she'd been told more than once, as the case may be, that said beast could be even more prickly than a dragon.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Ah," he nodded in understanding, the corners of his mouth lifting in a smirk she - under different circumstances - might have called cocksure. "Size does not equal skill, a lesson I've taught many a 'mountain man', as you called them. Quite an apt description, really; I'll have to remember it."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She chuckled. "That isn't <em>exactly</em> what I said, sir…" She trailed off, brow furrowing, as something important occurred to her. "I realize, only now, that I never asked for your name."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Ah, my apologies; manners are cumbersome things at the best of times and I am <em>rarely</em> a party to them," he bowed low, a thick black braid she hadn't previously noticed falling over his shoulder as he bent at the waist, a closed fist pressed to his heart. "Sir Malora, first of House Ravenna, at her highness' service,"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Malora?" she repeated, the name - beyond being more feminine than expected - was both foreign to the tongue and almost lyrical to the ear. "I've never heard a name of its ilk but I feel, somehow, it suits you, sir."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It's of the Moorlands," he supplied proudly, words coupled with a smile that did entirely uncomfortable things to Evelyn's insides. "As am I."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I was not aware the Moorlands had knights," she admitted, at a loss for what else to say. Little was known of the Fae territories - and, surely, even less known to her, secluded as she was - but she'd never heard of men living there, knights or otherwise.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Both my knighthood and noble house are inventions of our human queen; done so, I think, at least in part, to lend credence to my penchant for traveling beyond her borders. Few would dare to openly question the wisdom of the Crownlands Golden Monarch, even when it comes to the appointment of a female Fae to her honor guard,"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Evelyn's eyes went wide. "Fe-female, you say?" It made so much sense, looking back at all she'd been shown. The smoothness of his, <em>her</em>, cheek, her slight frame, the timbre of her voice, even the hesitation she'd shown when asked to remove her helm. It seemed almost painfully obvious, now. Oh, but the thought, alone, was almost too good to be true.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Could her rescuer <em>really</em> be…?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Malora tilted her head to the side, eyes narrowed in something that seemed to slip between amusement and wariness as easily as a needle through silk and skin. "Should I be offended, your highness," she began, smirk once again tugging at full lips, "That you realized my sex only <em>after</em> I laid it plainly before you?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I," she licked her suddenly dry lips, heart beating so fast and so fierce she feared bruises forming beneath her shift, "I beg your pardon, sir, most sincerely; I never thought-" her voice cracked, tears blurring her eyes, "Never <em>imagined</em> there to be someone capable of saving me twice."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Those fearsome green eyes narrowed briefly to slits before growing almost impossibly wide, and unbearably soft, in what could only be understanding. "And to think I feared you'd prefer I leave you with the dragon rather than suffer the shame of departing this place at my side,"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Evelyn rose from her seat at the edge of her bed in a flurry of silk and linen, the movement as graceful as her newfound impatience to leave this place behind her would allow. "I can think of nothing I'd enjoy more," she began, ducking her head shyly, "Than to be at your side, Sir Malora. And, if, if it is not too bold," she swallowed, hard, "I'd ask you call me 'Evelyn'."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A gauntleted hand rose only to stop beneath her chin and gently raise it until their eyes met. "Shall we go, then, your hi- Evelyn?" she asked, holding out her other hand, palm up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Heart beating so fast she was nearly dizzy, Evelyn didn't hesitate to take it. "Dear Malora," she began, near-breathless with anticipation, "We most certainly shall."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And, with hands held tight, they raced from that place of loneliness amidst gasping breaths and bouts of childlike laughter, neither of them ever looking back.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>so...I really like how this one turned out and am lowkey considering a sequel / continuation of some kind. lemme know if you're interested.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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